Alone
by Iapetus
Summary: AU. "What about now? Can you still find a reason to live after you've seen this?"


Alone

A Saiyuki fan fiction by Iapetus

**Disclaimer:** Despite how much I'd like to, I do not own either Kougaiji OR Homura… or anyone else in Saiyuki.

**Betas:** D-chan, Truth to Madness and Orenda

**_WARNING:_** _Character death._

Ok, the story goes a bit AU from the original timeline. Takes place after the first half of Gensomaden. The Sanzo-ikkou and Kougaiji-tachi have NOT met Homura.__

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If any of you happen to be reading my other stories, I am sorry for not updating in awhile. I have had severe writers' block, among other things preventing me from writing. Until then, I hope you enjoy this story.

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"Step forward, War-Prince."

Whispers filled the hall as the one who had been summoned stepped forward. He did not rush to the throne quickly like many flatterers eager to win favor with the Jade Emperor, nor did he travel with unnecessary slowness. His steps were perfectly measured as a meticulous way to keep his body in check. As he finally reached the customary spot to kneel, he did so, and in a manner that none could argue about as not being respectable.

His chains rattled against themselves as they pooled on the ground near where his right hand lay. His left arm was perfectly placed on his knee – again in the "proper" fashion.

Eyes closed, the current Prince of War looked like any other god in Heaven. Well, not many gods would wear his particular choice in clothes, but then again he needed to have an outfit suitable for combat - not the customary paper pushing. The only object that gave away his heresy was the chain that bound his wrists.

"Prince Homura," the Emperor began, "I am pleased with the… execution… of your past few tasks." The humor was not lost upon those attending to the Emperor, but the prince kept his body still and his mouth shut. "Would you be able to take on another job so soon after your last one?"

It was not a question of concern. The heretic knew that if a job needed to be done, his condition would not prevent Heaven from assigning him the task. After all, he knew that all he was good for in their eyes was to commit all the blasphemies that Heaven did not want to take personal responsibility for.

"I am at your disposal."

He spoke the words that they wanted to hear. As he was right now, he had no control over his fate

_I am only a puppet to them…_

At his voice, several gossipers whispered to themselves. He did not miss the jabs at his heritage – he was the filthy demi-god who just happened to be Heaven's most recent heresy. Homura amended his previous thought – he was not only their scapegoat, but also the main target for slander.

As always, he did his best to push out the hissing of the whispers as the Emperor continued to speak to him.

"…very good." _I missed something,_ Homura thought idly. "Your next mission is to finish the job that your predecessor had started." Mismatched eyes few open quickly at the statement as the Emperor elaborated. "Although instead of sealing the Gyumaoh away, you are now to kill him."

The whispers grew in volume as Homura remained in his submissive position. The small talk was no longer about him – well, not him directly – but of events that took place five hundred years ago. A time that seemed like an eternity and yet a day ago.

"Leave none in that castle alive. All are guilty of conspiring to revive such a monster. Do you understand?"

"But your highness, I was under the impression that Kanzeon Bosatsu-sama was taking care of that in her own fashion.." Who in Heaven had _not_ heard of the reincarnations of "the three rebel gods" – one being Kanzeon's own nephew – and the only rumored "pure blooded heretic" in the whole world to be sent on a holy mission? Some attributed the startling "coincidence" as just another one of Kanzeon's amusements. Others thought that it would be only fitting if those four laid to rest one of the many problems of 500 years ago. Personally, Homura was curious about the four hellions' own view on the subject.

"Never send a human out to do a god's job. It is taking too long. Make sure there is no way for Gyumaoh to ever be resurrected."

His audience with the Emperor was over. Closing his eyes again, Homura lowered his head further and spoke softly.

"As you wish."

.

.

Gone.

Everything he had once known was gone.

Hotou castle had been his home since before he was born, and before Gyokumen Koushu had transformed it into her base of operations. It had contained everything that he had ever valued in life. Friends… his family… It had been the center of his universe.

Gone.

The castle was now a pile of rubble, with the debris littering the ground past the horizon. It was hard to imagine that anything had once stood there. The pieces of stone and wood were warped so badly by pressure and intense fire that one couldn't even tell apart the different places the materials used to reside from within the building. Some stone was still hot from the explosion, so hot that not even _he_, a master of wielding fire, could tolerate it.

Seeing a column that had somehow managed to stay intact, he concentrated his remaining strength to jump onto the top. From his new perch, it was a bit easier to look out over the smoking wasteland.

Kougaiji had been looking for hours for survivors. He had not known how long he himself had been knocked out after all hell broke loose, but by the position of the sun in the sky, he figured that it hadn't been too long. If he had been able to make it, surely others could have…

When he awoke, his mind had already been filled with pain. Not by anything physical, but by the last memories that resided in his mind before he blanked out. Seeing Lirin lain out before the massive shell of their father's body – him being unable to do anything as he saw Gyokumen pierced the heart of her own flesh and blood.

Her daughter.

His little sister.

Apparently the little princess had gotten word of the plans somehow even before he did, but had not done anything to prevent being taken into custody. She did not try to break free as she was put into shackles to ensure that she would hold still. When he moved to try to free her, it was only her words that were able to hold him back.

_"If Oniichan's mother came back, then he'd really be happy…"_

_ "I want Oniichan to be happy."_

With her death, the ceremony to resurrect Gyumaoh had begun, and things began to go downhill. Almost immediately after the ceremony began, Kougaiji had received word that the Sanzo-ikkou were approaching the castle. Even without his sutra, which had been taken from him only hours beforehand, the blonde high priest would still come to fight and reclaim what was his.

Kougaiji admired the human for walking into a battle that he knew he would not survive. He had heard the rumors that Sanzo had been divinely commanded to stop their plans, and knew in the back of his mind that, truthfully, the priest did not have a choice in the matter. He was a slave to the chakra he wore on his forehead, just as the demon prince was a slave to his birthright.

His father had been regaining strength slowly during the ceremony, but it was exactly how it was supposed to come out, according to Nii Jenyi's calculations. However, the scientist had not calculated all of the possible variables to the equation.

Many of the demons had expected the Sanzo-ikkou's approach to be somewhat soon, but none believed that it would happen in the middle of the resurrection. As the high priest walked into the room, he saw the sutras in use and began to chant. As soon as the words left his lips, both the Maten and Seiten sutras flew towards their rightful owner.

It was then that his world was pushed into hell.

Kougaiji still could not make sense in his jumbled brain what had happened after that point. But he had remembered a terrible explosion – and the flame almost seemed to be in the shape of a great flamed dragon.

_Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought…_ Not even his father had been able to summon a dragon of fire.

The prince's desperation grew as time stretched on. He had earlier found the bodies of Dokugakuji, Gojyo and Hakkai lying in an enclosed space that he could not get to. His demon senses told him that all three were dead. Doku's body was burned beyond recognition, and the only way he could identify him was by the unique sword that the water sprite still had clenched in his fits. It appeared that, in the end, he did his best to protect his younger brother – even if he failed.

Gojyo and Hakkai were both burned, but it appeared that Doku took the brunt of the attack. While they also had fatal burns across their bodies, he could still make out their faces – marred as they were. The half demon's shakujou had melted into a puddle of hot steel.

Sensing life nearby, the prince jumped down from the pillar and headed roughly in the direction of his mother's chamber. _Who would be in there?_ He thought to himself. Of course, chaos had reigned supreme moments before he blacked out, but most demons knew better than to intrude on the true lady to the castle's private compartments.

Kougaiji had known the castle so well he would have been able to navigate in it blindfolded, but even he had problems finding the original general pathway among the rubble. He passed countless bodies of his warriors as he searched for the one who clung to life. There was no mistaking it – the demon in question was in his mother's room.

As he stepped "through" the threshold, he saw what he had only imagined in his worst nightmares. The pillar that had once contained his mother had not been exempt from the destruction. A fleeting part of him had hoped that it might have been knocked to its side, but it too had broken into countless pieces. He wanted to vomit when he saw the petrified piece of earring – seemingly broken off a statue – lying at his feet.

"Lord Kougaiji…"

_Yaone? She's still alive?!_

"Yaone, where are you?" He moved quickly in the direction that he had felt her presence. His mind had been so jumbled that he could not tell friend from the other occupants in the castle. What kind of demon prince was he, anyways?

"Lord Kougaiji, my lord… I'm over here…" she did not seem to have the strength to give out extensive directions. When he finally reached where she was, he simply froze at the horror that he saw.

His apothecary was trapped beneath a mammoth pillar that had cracked in two.

Rasetsunyo's pillar.

He could tell from where she lay and the look in her eyes, there was nothing that he could do.

"I'm so sorry, Lord Kougaiji," she apologized, "I could not save Lady Rasetsunyo. I-"

Before he knew what he was doing, Kougaiji found himself by her side, placing a finger gently on her lips. He did not want her going into death with regrets. No words were exchanged – she simply tried to smile that calm and quiet smile that she always seemed to save for him. Was she still in pain, or had her body reached beyond that point? He did not have the heart to ask.

The life slowly faded from her eyes, and Kougaiji brought himself closer to her body so that he could hold her.

He could only blame himself for not being able to save his mother. And because of the blind devotion that he had towards her, he had eventually caused both his sister and Yaone to die.

They had only wanted him to be happy.

Now he was the only one left alive, and all he could feel was pain.

.

.

According to his mission briefing, Homura knew that Hotou Castle was supposedly located in a rocky area devoid of vegetation. He had been expecting boulders, loose stones here and there, and especially sloped surfaces. He had not expected to arrive in the building's smoking remains.

While he did not stumble as his feet touched the debris that hid the ground, it still succeeded at catching his attention to his surroundings much more quickly.

There was nothing left. Even if he assaulted the castle alone when it still stood and was armed to the teeth, he would have not caused this much damage. Judging by the temperature of the rocks and the dust settling in the air, Homura gauged that Hotou had somehow met its end several hours ago.

_But I was given this mission less than an hour ago,_ he remembered. _Why send me down to a wasteland?_ Homura did not feel the presence of the Gyumaoh like they said that he should have – all he could feel was death. It was what he always felt when he had to go on one of the many errands for the Emperor – the feeling in the air that someone's soul had just been torn from their body. It was the sensation he always experienced when a life ended in a sudden and unnatural way.

It was difficult to make out even the figures of the many fallen demons – most buried under the mortar and brick or burned in a sickening camouflage with the rest of the debris. It wasn't until a small breeze brought a fragment of green and white parchment in front of his gaze that his attention strayed from his surroundings.

Catching the piece before it flew beyond his reach, Homura turned it over in his hand. It seemed to be made from a very fancy form of parchment, and it wasn't until he peered at the writing that he realized exactly what it was.

In order to revive Gyumaoh, six things had been needed – the Five Founding Sutras of Heaven and Earth, and a sacrifice that was related to the bull demon himself. This piece of parchment was from one of those sutras – he could tell by the bits of writing he saw on one of the sides. They were from the texts that only those that held the position of "Sanzo" and a few of the gods could utter. The breeze blew more fragments around him, and the demi-god turned into the wind's direction to see where they were coming from.

Homura was surprised when he saw two figures untouched by the burns that the rest of the castle's occupants had suffered. While they had not escaped the collapsing of the actual building, their bodies were not disfigured by charred flesh. Drawing nearer, Homura almost smiled.

"Konzen Doji," he whispered, "You really haven't changed, have you?"

The body of the reincarnated god did not move in response to the voice. _That is all that you are right now,_ the raven-haired prince mused. _Your soul has left your body again._ But would the gods in Heaven take his soul back, along with those of his companions Kenren and Tenpou? After the disaster five hundred years ago that was so terrible that everyone's memories had been sealed away, the souls of the three gods had been sentenced to the same fate as his beloved Rinrei – be incarcerated into the lower world as a mortal and have a short life. But Rinrei had lived to an old age, even if such a life was still considered short in comparison to eternity. Konzen and the others had only been in their twenties. Would they be reincarnated to finish their punishment? Or had this even shorter-existence been filled with enough pain to satisfy the Gods?

Red trickled slowly down from the wound in Konzen's chest – blood flow mostly obstructed by the object that still impaled both him and the one he had been trying to protect. It had done no good, for Homura could feel no life coming from the once energetic Son Goku.

As he lay underneath his keeper, he seemed to look up at the god with an expression of contentment on his face. In death, the heretic's twin golden eyes had not closed, gazing at Homura with an ominous expression behind it. The war prince had not thought that it was possible to kill the Great Sage whose power rivaled that of Heaven. Then again, many things that seemed impossible became possible in this world.

He had even thought that it might have been possible to overthrow the heavens – but the means in which to do so lay shattered at his feet. Seiten Taisei was gone. The sutras had taken to the wind like chaff in a field, scattering their remains farther than the eye could see.

Lowering himself to the level of the two fallen figures, the prince ran his hand over his fellow heretic's face, drawing his eyelids shut forever. As he pulled back, he noted how Son Goku's expression seemed to suit him more – the mask of death no longer looked so grisly with the absence of the soulless eyes.

A noise rose from the ruins, giving the destruction a voice. It was a cry of anguish, and in the form of a name he did not recognize. Vision darkening, Homura was yet again reminded of his task. He had though, at first that this seemingly timely disaster would have done it for him, but it sounded like someone had somehow lived.

His orders had been to leave none alive.

.

.

Kougaiji could not bring himself to leave her side. He knew that she was gone and that nothing he could do would bring her back – but something kept him from moving. Maybe it was because he could actually touch her. Maybe it was because he had actually been able to talk to her briefly, unlike Doku or his sister.

It was just… she didn't look dead. While burns marred her perfect skin and her blue hair was singed, the smile had remained on her face as her soul had left her body. That expression made her look like she was only sleeping. His heart and mind warred with each other – denial battled the reality. Kougaiji knew that his demon senses did not lie – he could no longer hear a heartbeat. Her breath had stopped. But…

The demon prince did not know if it was a blessing or a curse to see her lie like that – so "alive" in death. He had cared about his friends deeply, but it got to the point where he could not look at her face.

Mind still numb with shock, it took him a moment to notice the presence that had abruptly appeared about a hundred yards from where he was. At first, he thought he was looking at the priest, but quickly dismissed the notion. Sanzo's hair was not black, and he did not wear a cape that had a fiery pattern around its lower edge. Sanzo also did not have two different colors for eyes.

It was here that Kougaiji's mind became slightly confused. As he focused his senses on the spirit that the stranger emitted, he sensed a certain "divine" aspect about him – one that he sensed in the priest each time they had encountered each other. He also sensed a part of his spirit that was akin to his eternal rival Goku's, and wondered if the fact that the stranger had a gold eye had anything to do with it. However, the third sensation seemed to overwhelm him as his memory was brought back to another vicious battle.

His spirit was almost exactly like Nataku – the god who had subjugated his father.

Kougaiji's face must have betrayed his question, for the very first thing he found the stranger saying was the answer he had been curious about.

"I am the Prince of War," he said simply, "and had originally come to finish the job of my predecessor, but it appears that that is no longer necessary."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Kougaiji asked in a tone harsher than he had expected.

The god remained silent for a full minute as he seemed to collect his thoughts. "I have found no other survivors besides yourself. I assume that you did not find any others as well?"

Briefly glancing back at his apothecary's body, he slowly nodded his head. "I had thought that maybe…" he paused, not able to continue for a moment. "…If I had just found her earlier I might have been able to do _something._" His eyes squeezed shut at the pain of his helplessness. "I know that she would have not been able to make it, but if she could have gone through a little less pain…"

"And how would have that helped you?" the god questioned lightly. "Even if you could have rid her of the pain, it would not stop the fact that she was still dying. You still would have been helpless."

"I know that!" Kougaiji replied vehemently, "but she had always been devoted to me – suffering for me. In the end she died trying to protect someone I could not save myself. If I could have made it easier for her…"

"It seems to me like you still did."

The demon prince noticed that the god was no longer looking at him, but at Yaone. He turned back to face her, and saw yet again the smile on her face.

Kougaiji opened his mouth to reply, but found himself only repeating what he said earlier. "Why are you still here?" When he turned back to face the stranger again, he found that the god had moved closer.

"Do you hate heaven?"

The demon's eyes narrowed. "What kind of question is that?"

"There are those who would oppose the gods - even if it meant that they might bring eternal damnation on themselves for doing so." The stranger looked down briefly at the chain that bound his wrists before continuing. "I was curious to see if you happened to be one of those individuals."

Kougaiji could feel his anger flare. "The gods should mind their own damn business."

Unfazed, the god held his ground. "But if your father had not been subjugated before, how many lives would have been lost while he roamed free?"

"How many have lost their lives because of the revival?" the demon shot back.

"You condemn it yet you support it," he noted. "Isn't that hypocritical?"

"If I'm hypocritical, then what does that make the gods?"

The black haired god stopped to think. "I guess that would make us something worse then."

It shocked Kougaiji to hear a god insult his own kind. Gods did not meddle in the affairs of mortals _directly_ except in severe circumstances. He had only met a god once before. They hadn't really had the opportunity to sit down and chat, he remembered sarcastically, but then again, it would have been hard to really have a civil conversation with the one who had bound him for five hundred years in the same location.

The god's words brought him out of his musings. "Do you seek retribution?"

"I only wanted…"

"-to free your mother," The god finished for him.

He should have not been surprised that the god knew – didn't the deities claim to be omnipitent? Kougaiji himself had never told anyone outside his own comrades the reason for his actions.

"My mother was the kindest soul in the world - yet she was sealed away in a fashion similar to my father. She was guilty of his crimes, even though she did not commit them."

"An accomplice," he whispered.

"Pardon?"

"Heaven saw her as an accomplice – as they see you now," he pointed out.

"I didn't want my father back," Kougaiji vehemently stated.

"Then you should not have tried to resurrect him."

"I had my reasons."

"Yes, I am well aware of that." As he took a step closer, he summoned a large sword into his right hand. Kougaiji tensed at seeing the weapon appear, and fell into a defensive stance.

"What about now?" the god continued as he looked out over the castle's foundation, getting the demon to follow his gaze. "Can you still find a reason to live after you've seen this?"

Could he? He was alone – he would have to start his life over again. But if his friends were not there and he had no decent rival to compete with, what did he truly have to live for?

"I'm not sure," he spoke truthfully, "But I'm not weak enough to take my own life." _How would I be able to face Yaone if I escaped from my own failure in death? I really would be a hypocrite then._

"What are you still doing here?" Kougaiji found himself repeating a third time.

The god's expression became unreadable, but then he had completely disappeared from the demon's senses. Less than a second later, he felt a searing sensation in his chest, making his mind shut down as he realized that he had been impaled.

"I'm only doing my job," the god said in an even tone, as if he were struggling to retain a professional manner. However, Kougaiji could hear the faint bits of emotion that destroyed the professional manner in his mind.

"You are not weak," the god agreed. "Were there more gods with your kind of resolve, then perhaps you would not have had to face this fate."

Kougaiji had lost the strength to talk as the life quickly left his body. He managed to form a small smirk as he felt his body slump onto the blade of the sword.

"I am sorry, friend," the god whispered as the Prince of Demons closed his eyes for the last time.

And then there was only darkness.

.

Fin.

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This story is one of my most feared "what ifs." I am fascinated in exploring these different kinds of angles for the stories, even if some of them might be depressing. ::sweatdrop::

Comments and criticisms appreciated. 33

-Iapetus


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